Transparent Lies

One might wonder if it was genuine trust or sheer arrogance, but Desmond’s phone did not have a lock screen.

He must have believed she would never check it. Coralie never had the habit of snooping through his personal devices. He had played the role of an exemplary husband flawlessly over the past few years, offering no reason for suspicion. Moreover, Coralie respected boundaries. They were a married couple, but she believed everyone was entitled to their private secrets.

The relentless buzzing against the glass coffee table shattered that principle. It prevented her from sleeping and demanded her attention.

Coralie reached out and picked up the device. Her fingers tapped against the illuminated keyboard.

"This is Coralie. Desmond is in the shower, and his phone is with me. I will ask him to respond to you when he returns."

She hit send.

The device immediately fell silent. The barrage of incoming messages ceased.

The bathroom door unlocked. Coralie slipped back beneath the covers, turning her back to the center of the room. She closed her eyes and let a slight frown crease her forehead, mimicking the restless expression of someone caught in a bad dream.

Footsteps approached the bed. Desmond stopped beside her. He moved quietly, reaching over her to retrieve the phone from the pillow. He stood there in silence, scrolling through the screen. A moment later, his footsteps retreated as he tiptoed out to the balcony.

Coralie slowly opened her eyes. She was a light sleeper, especially when someone lingered near her space.

A distinct, faint smell of tobacco drifted into the bedroom from the open balcony door. Desmond used to be a heavy smoker, but he had quit. He had not smoked a single cigarette in the last three years. They did not even keep an ashtray in the house. Yet, since Coraline returned, Coralie had already caught him smoking three times in just a few days.

A hushed voice floated in from outside.

"I really was just taking a shower." Desmond’s tone was defensive and soft. "I just saw your message. You are overthinking it. Coralie did not mean to show off to you."

A pause stretched in the dark.

"No, she would not do that." Desmond continued, his voice laced with reassurance. "She is actually a good person. Although she does not talk much, she has a good heart."

Another long stretch of silence followed as he listened.

"Okay. Okay. I believe you. Is that not enough? Please do not cry, okay? It is not good for the baby if you cry. Alright, wait a moment. I will change my clothes and come down."

The call disconnected. Desmond stepped back into the bedroom and jumped in surprise.

Coralie was sitting up, her back against the headboard.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, freezing in place.

She shook her head. "I felt a little cold."

"Oh, I forgot to close the balcony door just now. Sorry."

"Why did you go to the balcony? Has the smell of alcohol not dissipated yet?"

Desmond tightened his fingers around the phone. He looked straight into her eyes and lied. "I received a call from the company. I was afraid of waking you up, so I went to the balcony. Have you been awake for a long time?"

"I just woke up and saw you come back. Is everything okay with the company?"

He shifted his weight. "It is fine. Go back to sleep. I will go out for a bit."

"Desmond."

"Yes?"

Coralie raised her head and looked at him in total silence.

He shifted uncomfortably under her steady gaze. He let out an awkward chuckle. "What is wrong?"

She withdrew her gaze, her face expressionless. "Miss Rowe seems to have something to tell you. I promised her to pass on the message."

Desmond was taken aback. He stared at her for a moment before nodding stiffly. "Okay. I got it."

"Are you not going to call her back?"

He hesitated. He avoided giving a direct answer and walked toward the closet. "Get some rest. You have been too tired lately. I will give you a shoulder massage when I have the chance."

She offered a hollow smile. "Okay."

Desmond watched her lie back down and close her eyes. He stepped closer, gently tucking the blanket around her shoulders. He then changed out of his loungewear and hurried downstairs. Minutes later, the sound of a woman sobbing drifted up from the front yard, followed by the heavy rumble of a car engine speeding away.

Coralie threw off the covers. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window upstairs, watching the taillights of the white Cayenne head toward the old house until they disappeared into the night.

"You are letting them leave just like that?" Stella’s voice nearly burst her eardrums through the phone speaker. "Why did you not confront them right then and there?!"

Coralie leaned against the cold window frame, smiling bitterly into the dark room. "How should I confront them? He is just going to comfort his best friend, not meet a mistress. What would I even confront them about?"

Stella gritted her teeth, her anger vibrating through the line. "And you believe she is just a friend? Who calls an opposite-sex friend in the middle of the night to go stargazing? And her name..."

Stella stopped herself, but the damage was done.

When it came to their names, Coralie was not naive. Things had progressed too far for her to play the fool. When Tobias had asked her in the past if she believed in pure friendship between men and women, she had confidently answered yes. She had many good male doctor friends in her department. They maintained friendly, professional relationships devoid of flirtation. They helped each other with family matters, shared meals during department outings, and exchanged holiday greetings. There was a strict, unspoken boundary in their interactions.

Desmond and Coraline operated on a different level. It could not be classified as just friendship, but society would not officially label it cheating either. Desmond was carrying a torch. It felt like a situation where a woman declared she wanted to be forever friends, forcing the man to bury his love deep in his heart and accept the role of a supportive companion.

Coraline had gotten married and settled abroad. Desmond was left to navigate his own life path. He went on blind dates, got married, and lived a seemingly normal life. With his elite family background and personal capabilities, Desmond could have easily married a wealthy heiress from a similar social circle. Instead, he chose a woman from an ordinary family. He chose Coralie.

Before tonight, Coralie believed Desmond chose her for her practical merits. She was attractive. She had a respectable job. She possessed a generous, easygoing personality. They got along well, making her an ideal candidate for a stable marriage.

Now, a horrifying epiphany crashed over her.

None of those traits mattered. It did not matter who she was as a person. The only thing that mattered was the phonetic resemblance.

Coralie. Coraline.

She was a literal substitute.

The foundation of her marriage dissolved into a grotesque lie. A chilling shiver racked Coralie's body, seeping deep into her bones. Her mind flashed back to their most intimate moments. During those passionate, breathless nights in their shared bed, Desmond would hold her close, burying his face against her neck. He would lovingly whisper her name into her ear over and over.

Was he calling out to her? Or was he using her body while calling out to the phantom of the woman locked deep inside his heart?

She walked closer to the glass and stared up at the night sky. The weather was pristine. A bright moon hung in the darkness, surrounded by scattered stars that shone like diamonds scattered across a dreamy canvas.

Where would they go to watch those stars? Would they sit together like Romeo and Juliet, gazing at the moon while discussing poetry and the lost ideals of their youth? They were two ignorant young people who had fallen in love at first sight, entwined in a tangled, sentimental love story that spanned decades.

Then what did that make her?

She was the collateral damage. She was the unwilling participant dragged into their epic romance to fill the empty space.

"Coralie, what about getting a divorce?" Stella suggested, her tone dropping to a serious, protective register. "They have had a love-hate relationship for over twenty years. You have only known Desmond for a few years. It is better to end it quickly. Just let go."

Stella was right. Walking away from this massive, twenty-year emotional entanglement was the only logical choice. Coralie had thought about packing her bags and ending the charade right then and there.

But there was a massive complication tying her down.

Coralie pressed her hand against her lower abdomen. "Stella, I am pregnant."